


Not Your Average Dragon

by Nympha_Alba



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Christmas, Coffee Shop, M/M, Modern Era, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-18
Updated: 2015-12-18
Packaged: 2018-05-07 08:24:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,355
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5449889
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nympha_Alba/pseuds/Nympha_Alba
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The gold lettering along the bottom of the shop window says COFFEE BY PENDRAGON, and underneath: NOT YOUR AVERAGE DRAGON.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not Your Average Dragon

A few hesitant snowflakes, the first of the season, come whirling through the air as Merlin spots the sign with the dragon on it and stops. He's passed the shop several times before but always assumed it had something to do with Chinese tea. The dragon, however, doesn't look Chinese at all now that he really looks at it; more like a Welsh dragon, red on black. The gold lettering along the bottom of the shop window says COFFEE BY PENDRAGON, and underneath: NOT YOUR AVERAGE DRAGON.

A reluctant grin crosses Merlin's face. Not your average dragon? What is an average dragon like, and what makes this one different?

A bell tinkles as he enters, an old-fashioned sound in an old-fashioned shop with ultra-modern, shiny equipment. Whitewashed walls and dark wood beams. Tiled black and white floor, huge sisal bags of coffee beans along the wall to the right, polished wood counter on his left. The fragrance is heady. A few customers are waiting for their coffee, chatting with the two remarkably pretty people behind the counter – a slight girl with black curls and a blond man in red t-shirt and black apron, with a stunning dragon tattoo along his right arm. His smile is blinding.

Perhaps, _perhaps_ he isn't the most beautiful man Merlin has ever seen, but Merlin can't take his eyes off him. He watches the man throw his head back and laugh, his hair golden under the overhead lights. Absent-mindedly, Merlin sticks his hand into one of the open bags, buries his fingers among the cool, slightly oily beans. Very Amélie. (Amélie is one of Elena's favourite films, one that Merlin tolerates because he likes the moment when practically everyone in Paris has an orgasm.)

"Can I help you?"

Merlin starts, images of the blond man and orgasms colliding in his head. He probably looks horribly guilty as he pulls his hand out of the coffee beans because the man grins. _Arthur_ , the name tag says.

"A triple espresso, please."

"Triple?" Arthur's eyebrows shoot up. "Not planning to sleep any time soon?"

Merlin smiles, shakes his head. "Nope. All-nighter on phytoremediation."

Arthur blinks; Merlin clarifies: "Plant biology student."

"Ah," Arthur says, his voice a little awed. "Well then, a triple espresso it is. For here or to go?"

Merlin looks around. "For here?" 

Arthur points to the far end of the shop, where three steps lead up to a small seating area.

"For here then, please."

"Any preferences? If you like a slightly higher acidity, we have a nice, fruity Yirgachefe or a high-grown Estate Kenya, or if you prefer chocolatey and spicy, maybe an Antigua?"

Mesmerised by Arthur's beautiful mouth, Merlin only sees it move and misses half of the words.

"Antigua sounds good," he manages, dazed. That voice could make anything sound good. Deep, rich, posh. Smooth as fine coffee.

"Triple Antigua coming up. Have a seat, I'll bring it to you."

"Thanks."

The seating area has three small booths with leather sofas and dark wood tables. Merlin stumbles up the steps and carefully selects a seat where he can see the counter. Where he can see Arthur. 

"Enjoy," Arthur says as he places the thick, white china cup on the table.

Merlin hums, thoroughly enjoying the view of Arthur walking back to the counter. The coffee is excellent, too. 

When he leaves the shop, his whole body zings with caffeine and Arthur.

***

Arthur gives Merlin a knee-weakening smile across the counter. "Hello, you're back! How did your exam go?"

Merlin shrugs, rubs his stubbly chin. "Okay, I think. That triple espresso may have saved me."

"Another one?"

"Something gentler today, maybe. A latte, please. With an extra shot."

"Coming up."

Two booths are occupied; Merlin sits down in the third, in the corner. He can't see the counter from here.

There's a low, humming noise that he didn't notice yesterday. Like a faint purr. He can feel the vibrations in the seat, the table. As if there's a huge engine somewhere underneath the building. Like being on a ship.

He asks about it when Arthur brings him his latte.

"It's the coffee roasters," Arthur says, and points to a door. "In the basement."

"So you do your own roasting?"

"Keeps better that way."

"And it smells fantastic."

"That, too. Enjoy your coffee."

Since Merlin can't see the counter from where he's sitting, he leans back and sips his coffee, closing his eyes. God, he's exhausted, and the hum of the coffee roasters is making him sleepy. He wonders what a coffee roaster looks like … whether the coffee smell is as fantastic down in the basement as it is up here, or even better … whether it's so warm down there that Arthur takes off his shirt when he works there …

… and to sate his curiosity, Merlin walks over to the door Arthur pointed to, and opens it.

The noise gets louder as he carefully picks his way down the roughly hewn steps to the cavernous basement. At the foot of the stairs, he stops. He had expected to find some huge, steam engine-like contraptions made of shiny chrome and red enamel, a bit like the Hogwarts Express. He is completely unprepared for what he sees.

In the middle of the floor is a wide, shallow stone basin filled with coffee beans, and at the far end of it sits a creature that Merlin had thought existed only in fairytales. It's a dragon.

Its nostrils flare as it breathes fire over the coffee beans, taking care to distribute the flames evenly to give all of the beans the same lovely, dark brown colour.

Merlin rubs at his eyes. The dragon lifts its head.

"Young warlock," it says. "You've arrived at last."

"Uh …"

"My name is Kilgharrah. I'm the last of the dragons."

"Well, I'm … I'm Merlin, but obviously you knew that already."

The dragon bows its head in greeting or agreement, and Merlin bows, too. A little politeness can't hurt.

"I suppose," he says hesitantly, remembering something from long ago, a story, a fairytale, a legend, "that I'm really here to... set you free …?"

Kilgharrah blinks. One of the great, taloned feet scrapes against the floor. "Well, I … Well. If you insist."

"If I _insist_?"

Kilgharrah sighs, sending a plume of flames into the air.

"You see, young warlock... the truth is I'd rather stay where I am."

"You … you would?"

The dragon inclines his head. "This is a good cave. It's warm. It smells good. And …" He looks up, a little forlorn. "What would I do if you set me free? Where would I go? I'm the last dragon. I'd be lonely. I'd be cold."

"Yes," Merlin stammers, "when you put it like that …"

Kilgharrah looks relieved. "Well, that's settled, then. It was good to meet you, Merlin."

"And you, last of the dragons."

***

Merlin wakes with a start, nearly knocking over the empty latte glass on the table.

Arthur is standing in front of him, looking amused. "Why, hello, Sleeping Beauty."

Groggy with sleep, Merlin blurts: "I met your coffee roaster. The dragon. In the basement."

Arthur's smile falters and Merlin can see the Crazy Customer alarm go off in his head.

"Sorry," he adds quickly, sitting up properly and rubbing at his eyes. "I was dreaming."

"I'll say." Arthur takes the glass. "Anything else? We're closing."

Merlin doesn't want any more coffee. He only wants to sit here and stare at Arthur. Crazy Customer, indeed.

"I'm fine, thanks."

He scrambles out of the booth, puts his beanie on. 

By the door, Arthur places a hand on his shoulder. "Go home and get some real sleep."

His touch sends an electrical current down Merlin's body, a shower of sparks.

***

When the afternoon rush has died down and there's a lull, Arthur comes up to Merlin. "Mind if I sit for a bit?"

Merlin shakes his head. "No, go ahead."

There's a different look about Arthur today. Soft. Tired. A little sad.

"I feel like I've seen you somewhere before," Arthur says, "but I can't remember when or where."

Merlin shakes his head. He's positive they've never met before. He wouldn't have forgotten a face like Arthur's.

Arthur shrugs, leaning back. His hands are resting in his lap; the tattoo on his arm is stunning.

"I'm Merlin, by the way. Merlin Emrys."

Arthur's smile stretches the beautiful mouth but makes his eyes sadder. "Arthur Pendragon. I own the shop, if you didn't know."

Merlin shakes his head. "I didn't."

Arthur rubs at his forehead. He looks tired. "I don't like this time of year." It comes out like a confession. "I don't enjoy Christmas; it's so focused on family. And I haven't got one."

"Oh," says Merlin, immediately stirred to compassion. "I'm sorry. That must be hard."

Arthur shrugs. 

Merlin glances at him. "Do you … do you want tell me about it?"

Arthur inhales to say no, then changes his mind and breathes out. "Yeah, I think I would. If you don't mind."

"I don't mind in the least."

"Well. My mother died when I was six. When I was sixteen, my sister left home – she was eighteen; she and my father argued constantly. We haven't heard from her since. Three years ago, my father died. And that's my sad story in a nutshell."

There's a dull ache in Merlin's heart. "I'm so sorry."

Arthur shrugs.

"No aunts or uncles? Girlfriend? Boyfriend?"

The last two questions make Merlin's heart hammer, but Arthur only shakes his head.

"And your sister – you haven't tried to find her?"

"No, but only because I don't think she wants to be found." The sad smile again. "What about you? Do you have a large family?"

Merlin shakes his head no. "It's just me and my mum, and my uncle Gaius. This year it's just me and Gaius, though, because my mum's visiting a friend in Spain. I'm going home to Wales tomorrow. And you? Will you be working over Christmas?"

"No," Arthur says. "Maybe I should. Oh, there's the bell – saving you, I suppose. I apologise for being so depressing."

Arthur returns to the counter and Merlin watches him, pinching his lower lip. Maybe they have met before, even if it's unlikely. But it's so easy to read Arthur, to read the look in his eyes, as if Merlin has spent years learning to do it…

An idea pings into existence and he decides to act on it.

On his way out, he says to Arthur: "You probably have plans for Christmas, but I was wondering … would you … would you like to come with me to Wales?"

It's stupid, it's ridiculous, and he can't explain the impulse even to himself. He hadn't set eyes on Arthur until three days ago but he knows, he _knows_ that he wants Arthur in his life, now, this minute, over Christmas, for years and years to come. He holds his breath while he watches a thousand thoughts pass by in Arthur's eyes. Then Arthur's face softens with something like gratitude, or relief.

"Thank you," he says.

Merlin's smile is so broad his cheeks ache. "Good. That's settled, then.

***

It's Christmas Day and Merlin wakes up to the smell of coffee.

They arrived at the cottage last night, had supper with Gaius and went to bed early, exhausted. Despite the exhaustion Merlin found it hard to sleep with Arthur on the other side of the wall, in the guest room, but after counting sheep to two hundred and something, he did fall asleep.

Now, he feels rested and full of energy.

The room is chilly and he pulls a jumper over his t-shirt, wool socks on his feet. Through the window he sees Gaius cross the snowy lawn with a bucket in his hand, on his way to the chicken coop. Merlin pads downstairs and stops in the doorway to the kitchen. Arthur is making coffee, his back to the door. Wool cardigan, jeans, thick socks; blond hair gleaming in the winter light.

_We could have this every day._

For a moment, Merlin is stunned by the vision, by how much he wants it. He wants to wake up with Arthur every day, spend every morning with him, have slow, sleep-warm sex before they go downstairs to make coffee... 

Arthur turns around and smiles. His eyes wander to something above Merlin's head and the smile turns cheeky as he pads over to Merlin, grins and points up. Merlin follows the direction of his finger: mistletoe.

Arthur raises his eyebrows in query. The look in his eyes is soft, his smile a little insecure. 

Merlin's hands are already reaching for Arthur's waist. "Yes."

God, yes.

Arthur smiles his way into the kiss, his hands cupping Merlin's face. Merlin reaches inside Arthur's cardigan, his fingertips stroking the strip of bare skin where the t-shirt has ridden up. Arthur's breath hitches.

"Merry Christmas," Merlin breathes.

"Mmm. Merry Christmas."

It's easy to picture a series of mornings like this, a series of Christmases with Arthur. Like a rope of bright pearls stretching into the future.

Their mouths are separated by an inch of air. Arthur's thumbs stroke Merlin's jaw. "If this is a Christmas present, it's the best one I've ever had."

"Soppy," Merlin whispers. His eyes are falling closed. "I should have tied a red ribbon around my – "

Arthur leans his forehead against Merlin's and laughs. "Well, it's not too late. You're great with the presents."

Merlin grins without opening his eyes; Arthur takes the hint and kisses him again.

"You know, Merlin, there's something about you that … "

"That what?"

"I'm not sure yet. There's just something about you."

Merlin opens his eyes. "And about you. You're … well, not your average dragon, I guess."

Arthur's lips touch Merlin's neck just above the collarbone, making Merlin shudder with longing. "I guess not."

The sound of footsteps outside the door makes them part, grinning. Just as Gaius enters the kitchen, Arthur whispers: "I'm looking forward to that ribbon."

Their eyes lock, and Merlin isn't sure he's ever felt this happy. 

"You should," he says, nodding meaningfully. "As you know, I'm great with the presents."

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [[Podfic]Not Your Average Dragon](https://archiveofourown.org/works/5740153) by [readbyjela (jelazakazone)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/jelazakazone/pseuds/readbyjela)




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